


close enough to you

by irwah



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Calum, Canon Compliant, Dressing Room Sex, M/M, Mirror Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Ashton, hand holding, these are actual tags?!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:26:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7042420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irwah/pseuds/irwah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“But can’t we, like, just for tonight?”</p><p>Calum eyes Ashton warily, realising just how many drinks he must have had. It’s so unlike the boy to go against his own words, his own morals. </p><p>“I just, I really want you, Cal.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	close enough to you

**Author's Note:**

> here i aaaaam, your local cashton trash back @ it again (even when i have a final tomorrow LOL). the minute i wander too far they just drag me back in with their fucking snapchats and their facebook video and like, ridiculous fondness.
> 
> inspired by recent events in which even on snapchat calum can't take his eyes off of ashton, set in Zurich
> 
> title taken from daylight coz im trash

When Calum comes off stage he’s absolutely buzzing, a mixture of the strong Swiss whiskey and adrenaline pumping through his blood stream. He doesn’t know what it is about this tour, something about European crowds that makes for incredible shows. Maybe it’s because the fans travel from so far to see them, the fact they’re playing new countries that they’ve never visited.

Maybe it’s the addition of If You Don’t Know to the setlist, tonight was only the second time that they’ve performed it but Calum could see it in the faces of the fans, could feel it in the atmosphere of the room and the screaming tweets in his mentions. The song was _electric_ and despite its emotional undertones, he knows that it’s gonna soon become one of his favourites to play live.

It’s not just him, though, they’re all even more hyper than normal after coming off the stage, Ashton throwing himself down the corridor ahead of them, ‘yipping’ at the top of his voice as the screams from the stage area die down.

“Aaand another one bites the dust…” He shouts in an awful Scottish (?) accent, unbuttoning his shirt as he goes. Calum can’t help but laugh, covering up his wandering eyes by pulling out his phone and opening snapchat. He films a slightly incoherent and completely ridiculous video of them all screaming, Luke stepping back to lightly comfort Michael at the mention of him messing up She Looks So Perfect.

Naturally, Ashton takes over within seconds, stepping back in line with Calum to be within the shot. His shoulder grazes against Calum’s at the movement and the brown boy supresses the butterflies in the pit of his stomach. He needs to get a grip, it’s just Ashton, his best friend, his bro. The guy he used to sleep with, the guy he still wants to sleep with.

But it’s fine. It’s fine, they agreed, no more shenanigans on tour, and Calum is totally dealing well with it. On a scale of 0 to Ross with a margarita in each hand, Calum is _totally_ fine.

The team find them in the dressing room, congratulating them all for another seamless show. Calum feels especially warm inside when John makes a special effort to come over and tell him how good his solo was in If You Don’t Know. He (and most of the team) were unfortunate enough to witness Calum’s freak out during soundcheck about fitting the lyrics into one breath. But he did it and was successful and he’s pretty damn proud of himself. The team walk out of the room but Calum notices another bottle of whiskey in his lap, figures John left it there when he came over.

Of course Luke immediately pounces, never one to turn down free alcohol, and Ashton stands up to grab the plastic cups, still grumbling from earlier about how they would be allowed actual adult glasses if Michael wasn’t such a clutz and had a tendency of breaking things backstage.

Calum rolls his eyes at his bandmates, laughs when Michael starts pelting Ashton with paper balls but his laughter catches in his throat when Ashton finally shrugs his shirt off, reluctantly spritzing some body spray on when Michael wrinkles his nose at the sweat still dripping down his torso.

“You fucking try drumming on stage and see how gross you get,” he mumbles, grabbing a cup of whiskey and coke from Luke and sitting back down.

“Ash, you wanna snapchat?” Calum says, knowing it’ll prevent further bickering with Michael. He sits down next to Ashton, forcing himself to watch Luke pouring cups instead of staring at Ashton’s shining pecs.

Maybe he’s imagining it but Calum’s almost certain that Ashton’s hand lingers over his as he passes him the phone, tiny sparks of electricity flying between them. It’s been a long time since Calum’s felt like this, he’s become accustomed to telling himself to snap out of it, stop being a freak and imagining chemistry with his bandmate.

After Ashton’s finished the video he shuffles further down the leather couch, swinging his arm loosely over the back of the seat, fingertips playing softly with the curls at the nape of Calum’s neck. The brown boy lurches forward, tries to cover it up as he reaches for more coke to add to his drink.

But Ashton notices. Calum knows because Calum knows everything about Ashton, from his ‘I’m upset and covering it up’ face to his ‘I ate the last doughnut and blamed Michael’ face. It’s always been this way, since the beginning of the band days when Ash would pick him up in his car, covering up for him to his mum when he skipped school. The two know each other so well it’s kinda ridiculous, always sending near identical messages in the group chat and doing that weird ‘talking through the eyes’ thing that Michael always bitches about.

“Cal,” Michael says, snapping him out of his thoughts “God, you’re knocking that back? Want some more?”

The blonde gestures to the cup in Calum’s hand that he didn’t realise was empty, passing the bottle to Ashton to pour for him. Calum has nothing to do but turn towards Ashton, sticking his arm out dumbly whilst trying to avoid eye contact.

Of course it fails though. Calum’s eyes have a mind of their own, studying the strong features of Ashton’s face, lingering momentarily on his lips before meeting his eyes. Hazel burning into chestnut.

The curly haired boy shuffles closer to him, using a hand on Calum’s thigh to balance himself as he pours the auburn liquid smoothly, eyes looking past the cup at Calum’s face. His fingers press into the skin of Calum’s thigh, hard enough to make the younger boy’s breath hitch.

Ashton’s looking at him in a way Calum hasn’t seen in a long time. A hungry way, a way that makes Calum want to offer himself up at the same time as cover himself, the internal war occurring in his head that often does when he’s around the older boy.

“For fucks sake, Ashton, when you two have stopped eye fucking, you’ll realise that not only are you about to spill the whisky all over your balls, but you’ve also used half the bo-”

Michael’s voice is cut off by Luke’s whine. “We’re out of coke.”

“Fucking hell, why do I have to do everything in this band?!”

Calum would scoff at Michael’s incredibly ironic sentence if he could think about anything other than the hand burning its imprint into his thigh and the eyes branding their mark into his heart.

He vaguely hears Michael dragging Luke out the door with him, muttering about refusing to be alone when they should be celebrating.

The door bangs shut and there’s just a millisecond of silence before Ashton’s lips are crashing into his, just as desperate and strong as Calum remembers them. The kiss only lasts a few beats until Ashton pulls back abruptly, apparently surprised at himself.

Calum takes the moment to put his cup on the table, taking the bottle from Ashton’s hands and placing it next to the cup before turning to him again.

“Ash, you said…”

“I _know_ what I said, Calum.”

The sting in his voice isn’t too dissimilar to the tone he’d used last time. _We can’t do this anymore, it’s kinda fucked up, this thing we’ve got going, Cal._ Calum had nodded dumbly, wondering what’s so fucked up about mutual attraction. _There’s other people’s feelings at stake, it’s not fair._ Images of blonde wavy hair and perfectly sculpted legs pass into Calum’s vision. _It’s dangerous, we have a working relationship_ and _it’s crazy to just use each other for quickies…_

And that final one hurt the most, because there was absolutely no way that it was just quickies for Calum, and Ashton knows that. Was the same for both of them, the unsaid words between breathless moans and the silent confessions of love when they lay intertwined.

“But can’t we, like, just for tonight?” Calum eyes Ashton warily, realising just had many drinks he must have had. It’s so unlike the boy to go against his own words, his own morals.

“I just, I really want you, Cal.”

And of course that’s all it takes. Within seconds, Calum is in Ashton’s lap, hands threaded through his curls, hot breath fanning against each other’s skin.

“Been wanting you all day, wanted to kick my drum kit over and kiss you on stage.”

Ashton’s hands sneak down Calum’s back, gripping his arse tightly, fingers pressing in hard enough to leave a bruise. Calum feels light headed at the thought of seeing the marks on his skin in the morning.

“Me too,” Calum moans breathlessly, smiling when Ashton’s hand cups his face. “Really wanted to kiss you in Amsterdam.”

“Yeah?” Ashton says, eyes sparkling. “Kinda wanted to kiss you in Paris.”

Calum giggles softly and leans into Ashton’s hand, nuzzling against it. “Why don’t you kiss me now, then?”

And he does. The kiss has Calum’s heart beating erratically in seconds, shifting forward, trying to be impossibly closer to the boy beneath him.

Ashton hums into his mouth, arms wrapping around his waist to pull Calum closer to him, holding him so tightly Calum can’t help but smile against his lips. God, he’s missed this. It’s just, kissing Ashton is so comforting, so familiar, so different from kissing a random girl in a club. Different to kissing anyone, really.

The older boy tastes like he always does, like honey and musk and _home_ but also the whiskey he’s been drinking. Or maybe that’s Calum’s own tongue. He’s not sure and he doesn’t even care, just wants this to never end, wants Ashton to keep soothing his hands up and down Calum’s back, shifting up to rest on his recently acquired shoulder muscles.

“I’ve missed this.” Calum doesn’t even realise he’s said it until Ashton huffs, kissing along Calum’s jawline, teeth scraping teasingly against his throat.

“I’ve missed _this_.” Is his response, hand swatting down quickly against Calum’s arsecheek. It makes him rut forward, grinding his semi against Ashton’s stomach. “Always so eager for me, huh, pup?”

And Calum can’t even deny it, always been weak for Ashton. Even weaker when his dick is involved. He nods, tracing Ashton’s strong shoulders and arm muscles as he leans forward eagerly, connecting their lips again.

Ashton’s mouth opens up to his as their tongues meet, not even a moment of fighting for dominance as Calum submits easily, letting Ashton kiss him, take him, make him his. The older boy’s hands are gripping Calum’s jaw hard, tilting his head to a better angle and Calum can’t help but moan. He can feel Ashton stiffening beneath him, the cocktail of post-show adrenaline and whiskey mixing through his blood stream and showing itself in his desire for the boy in his lap.

Calum hums, disconnecting their lips and shifting slightly, panting against Ashton’s cheek. His wriggling must grind just right on Ashton’s dick because within seconds big hands encircle Calum’s waist, stilling him.

“I...” Ashton begins but Calum cuts him off, surging forward for another kiss. He doesn’t want to hear what Ashton has to say, doesn’t want this to end too soon. He’s so close to what he wants, so close to feeling Ashton’s skin against his own. He knows it’s pathetic but Calum can feel a sob building up in the back of his throat at the feeling of Ashton pushing him away, telling him they can’t do this.

He kisses Ashton with all of his might, trying to channel all of his emotions into the slick slide of lips against lips. And maybe he’s imagining it but he almost feels like Ashton’s returning the feelings, not kissing him hard and fast like all the other times, desperate to get each other off before they were interrupted. This feels real and significant and there’s a light in Calum’s eyes when Ashton breaks away from the kiss, breathless and eyes hooded.

His mouth opens and Calum holds his breath, anticipating Ashton’s next words. He’s not expecting like, a sonnet or something but Ashton’s smiling at him and his eyes are sparkling and Calum can feel it, feel the love between them.

“Lock the door.”

And then it’s broken. The silence, the moment, Calum’s heart, y’know, same thing.

Calum wants to interrupt, wants to kick and scream at his best friend. He _knows_ he felt that and he _knows_ Ashton’s kidding himself that this is purely a sexual thing. Also wants to say that it’s not fair, that as his best friend Ashton shouldn’t want to hurt him like this, should be able to tell that Calum’s in fucking love with him.

But then Ashton’s kicking his shoes off, hands making quick work of his flies and he nods towards the door with a smile.

Of course, Calum swallows his words and his emotions, along with every inch of sanity he has, and locks the door.

He’s never been one to resist Ashton’s grin, not just the one that says “I want to see you naked”, but also the one that says “let’s go on an adventure” and “that riff sounded fucking sick” and his favourite, the “we fucking did it, we’re taking on the world and I’m so glad you’re by my side” smile.

And this is no different, Ashton’s hands reaching for him from across the room, dragging him into his body. Ashton kisses him once on the lips before scratching his stubble along Calum’s jawline, slowly moving his lips along and down, teeth teasing at the skin beneath Calum’s ear.

The bruises and bites that Ashton’s leaving across his neck are gonna be a pain to cover up for tomorrow’s show, Calum can already imagine Michael’s raised eyebrows and disapproving look in the morning, but he can’t bring himself to care. This is the most he’s gotten from Ashton in _months_ and there’s no way he’s willing to give it up now.

He stretches his neck to the side, giving Ashton easier access but his breath hitches in his throat when his eyes lock with someone’s across the room.

Calum hadn’t even realised there was a mirror in here until just now, hasn’t looked at himself since he came offstage and he can’t believe how fucked out he looks. His hair is a mess, unruly curls sticking out at all angles and his cheeks are flushed, deep pink from his cheekbones down to the edge of his jaw. The deep purple patches blooming on his neck look breath-taking but his favourite part of the picture isn’t himself. It’s his hands spread across Ashton’s broad back, black nails contrasting the tanned skin as they scrape against it, leaving red scratches in their wake.

The strong muscles shift beneath taught skin as Ashton pulls away from Calum’s neck, eyeing him warily.

“What?”

Calum takes in a shaky breath but says nothing.

“What’s got you so – oh. _Oh_.”

He catches sight of the mirror before shuffling out of the embrace, pulling Calum in front of him, front pressed to back. He knows Calum can feel every inch of him, feel his boner against his arse and his strong arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him into him.

Calum shivers as Ashton’s lips graze his ear when he speaks, voice gravelly and fucking irresistible.

“You like watching yourself in the mirror?”

He says, voice edging on mocking.

“Like seeing what I do to you? How good you look when I have my hands on you, marking you, making sure everyone knows what we did?”

Calum’s hands clench at his sides, trying to avoid Ashton’s eye contact in the mirror but unable to drag his eyes away from the hazel one staring into his soul.

“Want me to fuck you against this mirror?”

The brown haired boy makes a sound high in his throat and can’t help grinding back into Ashton.

“Is that a yes? Want me to fuck you so hard you can see yourself falling apart? Can watch yourself come from my cock alone?”

And with that, Calum spins around in an instant, breaking the firm grip Ashton had around his waist. Their lips collide with force, Calum giving as good as he takes, licking hot and heavy into the other boy’s mouth, panting against him.

“Are you sure it’s not _you_ who wants to fuck _me_ against the mirror?” Calum breathes against Ashton’s lips, smirking when he feels the older boy huff against him.

The older boy just steps backwards though, taking all warmth and playfulness with him.

“I want you naked and bent over that dressing table, now.”

The tone of Ashton’s voice has Calum holding back a whimper, throwing his shirt over his head and quickly stripping himself of his jeans and boxers. As he approaches the table he can hear Ashton rustling around in his bag and the anticipation of what’s to come has him gripping at his dick, one hand bracing himself against the wooden surface.

His actions are met with a low whistle. Calum looks up to see Ashton smirking at him, lube and condom in hand as his eyes rake up and down the brown boy’s naked back.

“Bro, you been lifting?”

Calum bursts out laughing, prompting a giggle to fall from Ashton’s lips too. He walks quickly towards the mirror, attempting to kick off his jeans and nearly crashing into Calum’s very naked, very strong back in the process.

They both laugh more and Calum can’t help but think that _this_ is what he’s missed. Being with Ashton, laughing together but also being able to run his hands through his hair, kiss his cheek, touch his lips.

He takes the lube from Ashton’s hand and pops the cap, pouring it onto his fingers. Ashton is watching intensely.

“Oh, sorry, did you wanna…?”

Calum asks, always polite, even with a hand full of lube.

“Nah, I kinda…wanna watch you do it?”

Ashton’s face tinges pink at his admission, as though he’s not allowed to say such things and Calum thinks it’s ridiculously cute. That Ashton seems so innocent and worried when he’s about to be balls deep inside of him.

Calum leans back slightly against the table and makes quick work of opening himself up, eyes raking up and down Ashton’s body as he does so. The air is thick with tension and by the time he’s three fingers deep, Ashton’s fucking into his own fist, sweat dripping down his pecs.

Calum moans, throwing his head back and Ashton’s on him in a second, dicks bumping against each other as their lips collide, panting into each other’s mouths.

“Need,” Calum’s words are cut off by Ashton’s mouth again. “Need you t-”

“I know, I know, pup. I’ve got you.”

He rolls on the condom, hands falling to his sides as he lets Calum finish the job, squeezing excess lube on. It’s been a while since they’ve done this and Calum doesn’t want them to have to stop for any reason other than like, a fire.

Calum spins around on his own accord, bending down over the table slightly, arching his back up towards Ashton, _for_ Ashton.

And his efforts don’t go unnoticed. The boy behind him holds back a moan as he grips Calum’s arse, hard.

“God, you look so good like this, Cal.”

The younger boy preens under his attention, turning his head awkwardly over his shoulder to catching Ashton jerking himself off with one hand still on Calum’s arse. The sight makes him push back against him, a whine that he will later deny falling from his open mouth.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

Ashton pushes two fingers into him roughly, knowing full well that Calum is stretched enough but just wanting to tease him more, scissoring his fingers until he brushes against the younger boys prostate, has him writhing beneath him.

“Ple-ease.”

Calum’s voice breaks and Ashton takes pity, pulling his fingers out before swiftly replacing them with his dick. It takes a second for the tip to catch on Calum’s hole, Ashton grunting softly before it finally works, the head stretching Calum in the perfect way it always does.

“Fuck, Ash.” He moans as Ashton continues thrusting his hips lightly, fingers dancing up and down Calum’s sides before coming to a standstill on Calum’s hips, tightening when the younger boy clenches around him.

He bottoms out and lets out a massive sigh. Calum takes it to be that of relief and he agrees, hand finding Ashton’s on his hip and interlinking their fingers.

Ashton squeezes his fingers, making Calum look up and the brown boy is shocked to find himself looking back. He’d completely forgotten about the mirror, about the whole reason they’re doing this. And wow, if he thought he looked fucked out before, this is some next level shit.

His eyes are blown wide, just a slither of colour surrounding his irises, his eyelids hooded as he studies himself. His lips are red, swollen, from Ashton’s teeth or his own, he’s not sure. He looks up higher, meeting Ashton’s gaze in the mirror, biting his lip at the look of pure euphoria on the older boy’s face.

“Feels so good, Cal.” Ashton punctuates each word with a thrust, punching tiny little sounds out of Calum.

“Can you go,” he pants, leaning up on his elbows for more leverage. “Can you go faster?”

Ashton obliges, speeding up his movements, grinding in harder on every other thrust. Calum’s eyes close without permission as Ashton grazes his prostate, but they fly open when he feels Ashton’s hand in his hair, tugging lightly.

“Watch yourself.”

It takes a huge effort but he opens his eyes, studying his own face as his whole body shifts forward with the weight of each thrust, getting closer and closer to the mirror as he gets closer to his release.

His muscles are starting to ache, not used to holding himself up like this whilst being pounded into and Ashton can tell, murmuring a “come here” before snaking his arms around Calum’s front, pulling him up suddenly against his chest.

The angle pushes Ashton that much deeper into Calum and the brown boy is pretty sure he can feel him in places he hasn’t before. He moans deliciously, hands reaching back to tangle in Ashton’s hair, head thrown back against his shoulder.

They’re so close to one another like this, Calum can feel every inch of Ashton against him, his hip bones pressed firmly against his arse, curled together like they’re one.

Ashton keeps one arm firmly across Calum’s chest, gripping his shoulder tightly as his other hand wanders, rubbing down Calum’s abs, fingers tracing each defined muscle, stroking lightly before scratching, making the younger boy threaten to buckle beneath him.

“Remind me to thank James for getting you these…” He smirks, feeling Calum huff against him. “Maybe I should reply to the video of you training with a photo of this, of your muscles all tense like this, ‘cause of me.”

Calum moans, turning his head to mouth at Ashton’s jaw.

“Ash.” He warns, feeling Ashton’s calloused fingertips dance dangerously close to his cock, knuckles brushing against it but then moving away again.

“Ash, please. I’m getting close.”

His plea has the opposite of the desired effect. Within a flash, the pressure in his stomach is gone, Ashton having pulled out suddenly, hands gone from his body.

“Can you turn around?” Ashton says, voice quiet and Calum is surprised to see a blush on his cheeks when he obliges.

Ashton’s hands fall to his hips, spreading across the backs of his thighs, pulling him onto his tiptoes. Calum’s arms wrap automatically around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, running his hands through it, how he always wants to but is never allowed.

“Wanna be able to kiss you…” Ashton pouts, whispering into the small space between their lips. He kisses him deeply and Calum feels the older boy’s arms flex as he is easily lifted off the floor, ankles connecting behind Ashton’s back.

“Thought you wanted to fuck me against the mirror? You can’t have it all, Irwin.” Calum smirks, but the grin is wiped off of his face when Ashton sinks him back down onto his cock in one motion, a glint in his eyes.

“You were saying?”

“Just,” Calum cuts himself off with a moan. “Fuck me. Please.”

And who is Ashton to deny him that pleasure? If Calum thought he was in heaven before, this must be like, some superior heaven. Ashton rests him just on the edge of the dressing table as he fucks into him hard, fingers gripping onto his thighs. The angle is just right, the pace almost punishing, the harsh slap of skin on skin veering on painful. But Calum’s always enjoyed a bit of pain.

He can’t believe he thought watching himself was hot, ‘cause from this position he gets to watch Ashton and that’s like, ten times better. He can see the flex and shift of Ashton’s muscles as he holds him up, pulling him down onto his cock faster and harder with each thrust. Ashton’s bronzed skin is shining in the light, a drip of sweat trickling down his neck that Calum can’t help but lick away.

The contact shocks Ashton and he jerks forward slightly, cock punching even deeper into Calum and grazing his prostate. The younger boy clenches around him and Ashton swears loudly, eyes opening to connect with Calum’s, light dancing in them.

Calum’s got that feeling in the pit of his stomach again, not just the one that tells him he’s gonna come soon but the one that gives him like, _feelings_.

Ashton’s name falls from his lips in a whisper, eyes threatening to shut but he keeps them open, channelling everything he’s got into Ashton’s eyes.

“Ash, I’m…I think, I…” but instead of a stupid confession, instead of saying the words he knows they both feel, he reaches for Ashton’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

And maybe he’s imagining things but the way Ashton squeezes back and the gentle kiss that follows suggests Ashton feels it, feels the same way.

The older boy leans in further, pinning Calum against the table with his hips as his other hand moves round to the brown boy’s cock, only managing a few strokes until the coil in Calum’s stomach is tightening.

“Come for me, Cal.”

And he does, lips smashing into Ashton’s with no real intention, just breathing in the other boy, free hand tightening in his hair, dragging Ashton’s face impossibly closer.

“Fuck.” He whispers as Ashton fucks him through it, grunting as he comes into the condom, collapsing against Calum against the table, hands still intertwined.

Ashton finally stills, face buried in Calum’s neck as he laughs.

“Fuck indeed.”

Calum giggles, dropping his legs from Ashton’s back and grunting as he feels the stretch down the backs of his thighs and his arse.

The older boy finally stands up, pulling out gently and making a face when he accidentally touches his face with the hand still covered in Calum’s come.

“Hey,” Calum pouts, put out that his come offends Ashton so much. “It’s not that gross…”

“Oh, really?” Ashton extends his arm, his come covered palm hovering close to Calum’s mouth. He smirks. “Taste it then.”

And please, Calum’s not so much of a prude that he’s never tasted his own come, knows that it’s kinda bitter and not a generally pleasant experience. But he also distinctively remembers Ashton not complaining when he’d come down his throat, licking and sucking Calum’s dick until he was oversensitive and whining for Ashton to leave him be.

So Calum jumps up, licking the come off of Ashton’s face with a purposely wet tongue before slapping him on the arse and walking away. He laughs at the sight of Ashton, stood in the middle of the dressing room, butt naked save for a condom with a hand full of come and a perplexed look on his face.

Just then the door rattles loudly, someone obnoxiously banging and shouting outside. Of course it’s Michael.

“Hey, dickwads, bus call is in five minutes and I left my phone charger in there so you two better stop rimming so I can get it.”

Ashton locates the charger and reaches for it, not realising he’s still not cleaned his hand until Calum squeaks loudly. Shoving a tissue into his hand. Ashton disposes of it and chucks the condom in the bin before starting to get dressed.

“Be out in a second.” He shouts, laughing at the grunt Michael responds with, Calum’s hesitance to open the door confirming the pair’s antics. But then Calum imagines the pitiful look Michael will give him in the morning when Ashton is back to fist bumping him and calling him ‘bro’ and he gets a bitter taste in his mouth.

He pulls his clothes on quickly, pretty sure he’s wearing Ashton’s boxers but not bothering to say anything. He’s scared if he opens his mouth he’ll do something stupid like cry or like, tell his best friend he’s in love with him.

The silence in the room is growing and when Ashton says “Hey, Cal,” softly, Calum’s ready for the serious talk about how they should forget this happened and never speak of this night again. Maybe that’s for the best.

But instead he’s surprised when Ashton reaches an arm over his shoulder, pulling him into his side in a little cuddle.

“Room with me tonight?”

And who is Calum to deny him that.

Xx

As they walk to the bus side by side, hands brushing tentatively, ignoring Michael’s demands to disinfect everything in the dressing room immediately, Calum’s mind is in overdrive.

Maybe this isn’t enough for Calum in the Grand Scheme of Things and _maybe_ he should be looking for like, some stability and a healthy relationship, maybe a long term thing with someone who makes him feel loved all the time. And maybe he’s an idiot for getting his hopes up all the time, but right now, and hell, for as long as he’s known him, Ashton’s always been enough for him.

**Author's Note:**

> hope u LIKED IT sorry for the angst but like...what is sex without angst
> 
> feedback and general friendship is always welcome on my tumblr [cashtontrash](http://cashtontrash.tumblr.com) and also u can reblog this post [heeeeeeeere](http://cashtontrash.tumblr.com/post/145206774832/close-enough-to-you-on-ao3-by-irwah-pairing-calum) if you'd like
> 
> lots of love,  
> D xxx


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